


Correspondence

by deskclutter



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 01:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deskclutter/pseuds/deskclutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation about letters.</p><p>Written for Fakiru Week 2013: trust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Correspondence

Once upon the last day of a golden summer, someone sat beneath the oak tree and waited as the wind began to shake leaves from the oak's branches. It sifted through his hair and ruffled at the pages of the book in his lap and it sang in his ear until indolence came to pass and he lay prone beneath the tree. _Shhhhhhh,_ whistled the wind in the leaves, and he listened so long to the sound that his eyes drifted shut.  
  
So he did not notice the ballerina who was lofted over by the wind, dancing to the sound of the wind's whistle and gently leaping through empty air. The wind, at play, flung her high into the tree's branches, where she tangled and stumbled about in giddy delight. Pulling herself upright, she glanced down to see the boy sprawled across the tree roots.  
  
"Haha," she chuckled to herself, and hopped from branch to branch until she ran out of branches altogether, where she poked her head through the foliage and called "Fakir!!"  
  
He startled awake and cracked open one eye to see her waving at him. "Oi, be careful!"  
  
"I will," she said, and that was when her hold slipped and she fell all the way down.  
  
As he was directly below her, Fakir had the breath knocked out of him when she landed directly on his stomach. "Ack," he sputtered. "Didn't I tell you to be careful?!"  
  
She grinned down at him. "Sorry, sorry," said Ahiru. "I'm glad you didn't move."  
  
"Hmph," he said, pushing her off so he could rub his stomach. "You'd have broken your leg on one of the roots or something. What were you doing just now?"  
  
"I read my letters," she told him. "You should read yours too, they're all piling up in that dusty corner of the house. One day they'll topple over and someone could get seriously hurt, you know."  
  
" _You_ ," said Fakir, "get one or two letters from Rue every week. _I_ get a near avalanche of mail from my readers who want to tell me how much they don't like my story for this week or how I've made a very small mistake that I must correct for the story's integrity."  
  
The wind, ignored for so long, petulantly huff at them, snarling their hair into tangles and sending a particularly broad leaf flopping into Fakir's face.  
  
Ahiru laughed as she plucked it off his mouth. "I'd read my other letters if I had any," she confided.  
  
"You can read mine if you want," Fakir grumbled. "I read my editors' correspondence and the tradesmen's notes." He glanced sidelong at her -- or tried to. The wind was puffing hair into his eyes. He swiped it away. "Do you want more letters to read?"  
  
"Ehhhhh, I'd rather not read your fanmail, because your readers are pretty smart and anything they'll say will go over my head..." said Ahiru, which was not an outright no to his question. "But ah, do you remember when Hermia dressed as Bottom the Donkey and delivered love letters for people? I always thought that was a nice thing to do."  
  
"The time when I received a letter from you," Fakir said. "I remember."  
  
Ahiru's face heated. "That wasn't me!!" she insisted.  
  
"Right," Fakir said, and then he said, "Ugh," because the wind was still blowing his hair into his face. He got up, and Ahiru followed suit, arguing all the way home that she hadn't written the letter, which was _obvious_ , but he let her argue anyway.  
  
The wind chased them all the way and got very angry when they pushed the door closed in its face.  
  
(Fakir wrote by lamplight that night when he was sure she wasn't about to sneak in on him. _Love,_ he signed the bottom of the sheet, then crossed it out, then wrote it down again.  
  
And in the morning, there was a new letter waiting for Ahiru with the rest of the post.)


End file.
